The Leftovers
by Terah
Summary: A brief history of the Hendo bloodline in its struggle for salvation, as told through the acts of an old man with a bygone promise.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The man's lifted arm was the first thing visible over the hill, as he reached the top with his hands over his eyes to block out the glare of the sunlight. Slightly out of breath, he let his arm down and leaned against a nearby tree.

"Pack inventory, visibility mode-"

A large brown cabinet materialized on the grass beside him, landing with a heavy thud. He really had to get rid of some of the stuff in there, it was taking a toll on him to carry around even with shinsoo control. What was stacked in the bottom of this mercifully large inventory was out of even his prodigious memory, and was probably older than the very tree he was leaning on. While the man begrudgingly admitted that the clutter was mostly due to his own laziness, he also partially attributed it to the magnificent compression ratio that the cabinet offered. The smith who had been responsible for this cabinet had been a fine craftsman indeed. He had heard from the wayfarers that the smith ended up selling some of his goods to even the Ten Families themselves, with the Koon family head taking a particular interest. A large number of briefcases had been bought, he had heard.

Pushing himself off from the bark of the tree, he walked over to the cabinet and rummaged in it for a while, and soon pulled out a canteen from which he drank deeply and slowly.

He glanced at the tree he had been leaning on. Its many branches were extended far from the trunk of the tree, with lush leaves drooping slightly like angel's wings. A wing tree - though their headquarters were further down the Tower on the 77th floor, the influence of the Wing Tree was now widespread on even the highest of places. The man had known a few fairly kind acquaintances in that group, before the bloodlines of the Ten Families thinned and the race to become a ranker became steeped with people. In the days of old there had been less climbers, and less structure to the whole deal. This had a direct effect on the climbers' sentiments; even as late as the time of the formation of the Wing Tree, the people were still respectful, and there was restraint and calm amongst those who would seek the title of ranker. Now all that was left was corporate rabble, and unworthy fools who threw away their lives in search of the impossible. "The Tower has not chosen you," the judges and their file of rankers would inform the defeated lot. Ridiculous. However Headon might have changed his views on the contestants since the first years, the man did not care. Things had been better back then. Truer.

The man finished off the last of the water in the canteen, and threw it back uncorked into the cabinet. He grimaced and ruffled his hair. He should not dwell on past glory and the failings of the young. Wiping his mouth with the ragged sleeve of his overcoat, he peered downwards from the hill onto the deserted village below. A few broken houses, silent chimneys and splintered doors - wild beasts, naturally resistant to shinsoo, prowling carefully amidst the wreckage. If anyone had stayed here in the past, they were skilled people - to have escaped the eyes of the royal army for so long, to have hidden in an actual floor of the Tower. The man smiled lightly at the defiance in the act. Sifting the air with his hand, the man felt the remnants of a stealth spell, weakly propagating through the shinsoo that fueled it even after the clear demise of its caster. Skilled, yes, the man confirmed. He had felt a similar trace in Askelon, in the Temple of the Crest, and at the Lighted Bay where he had found his last piece of evidence.

Here, however, the spell also radiated a faint inscription of blood, the interference of the caster's wound on the purity of his defense. Most likely, the casting ranker - and his group - had met their ends here. The man went back to his cabinet and pulled out a large scroll. Unfurling it, he marked a dark blue X on the detailed map with his finger, indicating his current location. "My good friends," muttered the man, rolling the map back up and dropping it into his bag, "our search may indeed end here."

"Pack inventory, invisibility mode" The cabinet twisted and vanished. The man lifted one hand to the sky, and pointed to the ground with his other. "As above," the air shook with resistance. "So below." Immediately a shining dome was seen covering the entire village, marked with a shining glyph of the Red Three-Eyed Seal. The form wavered and bulged outwards. The man withdrew his hands and covered his ears just in time - the dome shattered and a splitting scream rent through the air and echoed off the surrounding hills.

"I hate that part," the man half-shouted with a scowl, almost deafened despite his emergency measures. He really should've put some barriers up before he did that. He forgot every time. He really was getting old - to hell with those bearded academics, claiming immortality was possible with shinsoo. If no one had died yet, how did they know it was immortality and not just living to a ripe old age? Stop trying to prove the unfalsifiable, was his take on it.

The man carefully started to step down the hill towards the village. A stone rolled off under his feet and he almost fell, sliding down some dangerous distance before he corrected his balance on his tiptoes. The man looked up to the sky. "Well then, you lunatic," he gulped. "That doesn't mean I _want _to die."

* * *

Letting his dusty hands drop to his side, the man heaved a loud sigh. With his boot he kicked an unlucky nearby skull into a broken furnace – and immediately shuffled over to return it to its body with a guilty look, despite the fact that he knew no one had been watching. So easily aggravated even at his old age. Perhaps the wisdom of mind depends to a certain extent on the aging of the physical body as well. Even if it was a façade, perhaps the young ones would respect him a bit more if he had been older looking?

The man sighed again, this time at length and with a disenchanted look. No, they would probably all just think he was senile. And in any case, what did it matter what others were saying about him, or whether or not he was treated as an elder? He had already seen all there was to see, had been to everywhere there was to go, and had enjoyed all the exquisite things the tower had to offer. The little ones that had been born after he had made high-ranker were now issuing edicts of their own. Apart from being the result of the man's apathy towards the ranking system, this was a testament to the amount of time that had passed. Countless years, centuries. Since the first days of everything anyone knew about this tower.

"So, where have you been all these years that it is so darn hard to find you?" He muttered as he stepped out of the dilapidated house. Nothing, again. He could not figure out where the caster of the stealth spell had vanished to. If they had all died here, there should have been bodies – the only corpse here was that one back in the house, and judging from its clothing, it belonged to a regular villager who probably got unlucky in the town's assault. If they had fled, there must be traces of doing so, but the man could not see any. Had the Enforcement Division killed them off and then destroyed the evidence? From the barrier that he had to break through when entering the town, it was clear that the RED had been here. They, notorious for thorough completion of duty, would probably have taken care to dispose of the body of any rankers they had killed. If that was indeed the case, where could he go now for the next hint?

The man pulled out his pipe and started to smoke. Such hassle for a bygone promise.

Without his noticing, the day had already drawn to a close – the shinsoo sun of the floor guardian was hanging closely over the dust-clouded horizon. The man rose slowly from the stone steps that he had been sitting on, and brushed the dirt off his pants. Smoking lessened the throbbing knot of stress in his chest. How blessed it was that one could utilize shinsoo to cure the ailments caused by smoke. He reminded himself that he should bring Fo Bieder a top grade dried silverback eel gift set, should there be an occasion to visit his castle. Provided he came across some money, of course. He was perhaps the only ranker in the tower who was so destitute.

Lifting his feet heavy from disappointment and fatigue, the man walked through the broken town arch and out of the village. He should leave this failure behind and go find a nearby town centre or something so he could rest and begin his search anew. It had been a long time since he had slept in a proper bed. There was also a chance that in his current state of fatigue, he had looked over possible clues that still remained in the broken village. It was possibly worth his time to come back once he was well rested. His body, despite its outward youth, was shot with exhaustion from weeks of climbing up and down the tower. What devil was responsible for this back pain that even penetrated the armor of eternal life! The bastards at the shinsoo research institute were clearly wrong – the proof was shaking him wholesale from deep inside his spine.

But in the next moment, the man stopped massaging his back and stood still. The shaking was not solely because of the pain. The man, who was bent over in resemblance of a certain famous hunchback, slowly lifted his head and stared at the increasing, incoming noise.

The dust cloud that had been covering the horizon was now larger in size, and was moving towards him. Not keen on hearing his vertebrae make any fatal sounds, he slowly and very carefully straightened his back and examined the dusty haze closely. Upon a sharp stroke of wind, the man could see a host of flags being flown amidst the clear ringing of battle horns.

The Red Three-Eyed Seal manifested itself upon a black backdrop.

For an instant, the man thought of the Enforcement Division and contemplated running back to the village to hide; but before he could make a move, another flag came into his view. The flag, bearing concentric circles of blue and black, flew with unabashed pride even beside the royal seal as if to demonstrate the audacity of the one who it represented. Beneath the etched paint of the eye-like symbol of Kun Edan there was drawn a sword of piercing yellow.

Ah, so that's who it is…The man turned away from the village.

The army quickly approached the man, and he could see now that they were fully clad in garments of deep blue. The one in front lifted a hand from atop the shinhaeo steed, upon which the entire army stopped in place. The commander dismounted and walked towards the man. Stopping in front of him, the commander shook a long mane of white hair once before looking down on him with sharp, narrow eyes.

The man spoke first. "Maschenny, it has been a while."

"I was wondering who it was, but it was just you again," the princess glared at him without losing her icy demeanour. "I heard from the RED scouts while I was passing by, that their barrier here had been destroyed. Your work?"

"Yes," the man smiled at the princess' unchanging attitude. "Looking for something, as always. I will talk to the squad commander, you need not mind."

"Things will not go over well, if you keep defying the House of Jahad."

A tense air began to flow, but the man remained composed. "I know, my dear. I have no intention of defying the royal house. Your Father will understand. If it is not too much trouble, let an old man be."

The princess stared past the man as if ignoring his request, gazing at the ruin of the village. Threatening sparks of dark blue were jumping around the sword that was girt at her waist – her hand had been on its hilt from the beginning of the conversation. The man knew that he would not be able to block the princess' strike. But if his name had not yet been forgotten by the head of the House of Kun, her murderous intent would remain at best an empty threat. The man simply held himself steady and waited.

The pensive princess soon lifted her gaze from the village and glanced at the man as if in mistrust. "…Very well. But please remember that this is the fourth time now that you have disrupted the work of those who carry out the will of my Father. My personal patience has its limits as well. I hope I do not see you again in places like these."

The man let out his breath, realizing he had been holding it without noticing. "No worries, my dear. You will not, I promise you that. In any case, now that we are through the less cheerful subjects, this all reminds me - how is your collection coming along? I heard the news that your younger sister recently procured another one of the thirteen."

The princess scowled slightly. "None of your business. I actually ran into her just recently at Repellista's place…you have a gift for saying the most annoying things at the most annoying time."

The man chuckled softly, unable to stifle his laughter completely. "Take a relaxed stance on things and carry everything out step by step. There is nearly forever in terms of time. You are not the least of the blessed and so you will surely be able to achieve. If I am still alive by the time you complete the collection of the Months, take me to a dinner. I am sorely out of money these days…"

"Don't be expecting much. That reminds me, Repellista asked me to tell you that she has not yet found anything. These days she seems to be busy with her own projects, whatever they are."

"I understand. No worries."

"I would not bother worrying."

Kun Maschenny Jahad, without saying or waiting for a goodbye, turned around and motioned for her guards to move out.

"Oh," the princess shouted over her shoulder. "That prick Holt says he awaits you in Askelon."

The man stood still until he could no longer see the princess' cohort. He resumed walking when the sun had completely set, and he could clearly see the light of the town centre in the distance.

"Askelon? But that's a place I've already covered…what a bother to be called there again…tsk, that Holt, ordering around an old man here and there…" The man muttered in complaint as he walked away from the village ruins.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The three observers streaked fro and back, scanning the desolation with a resonant hum. Keeping a low altitude, they meticulously examined the alleys between the crumbled houses, the ruins behind each window. One of the observers stopped over the skeleton of a man, separated from the rest of the body at its neck. Had it the ability, this observer would most likely have apologized.

"Sorry about that," a whisper was heard from within the foliage of the wing tree atop the adjacent hill. The man was leaning back on one of the main branches of the tree, with the leaves as his cover. After triple-checking the footage the observers were sending him, the man finally swore silently, spat down the tree and covered his face with his palms. As if to laugh at his hopes, the village was in the exact same shape as three days ago – the evidence he thought he might have overlooked due to fatigue back then was nowhere to be seen.

"Ah. Well. What's bust is bust. I suppose it's almost time…to leave for Askelon.. hmph!" Standing up on the branch, he input the command for the observers to retur-

"Huh?"

The man hastily stopped the observer which was about to turn away from the defiled skeleton. The observer sunk itself into the pockets of the coat draped over the figure, and dragged out a ragged sheet of paper, folded several times. Folded without regard for the privacy of the writer, the paper showed certain elegant writings but had mostly been dyed in blood, now crusted into a dull brown.

"Hmm, I guess it's courtesy to take that with me?" The man opened up the observer with a remote command, and stored the piece of paper inside. He then jumped down from the tree without waiting for the observers to return.

He lowered his head. Reflexively.

Striking shoulder first, he rolled on the grass. Evaded.

He felt a sliver of something ice cold swishing by his cheeks.

"Armor inventory, visibility mo-" In the instant the inventory blocked the man's front, a gust of freezing wind roared around its edges. The inventory rang with a deep, ringing _gong_ but seemed to have neutralized the impact.

After a moment of gathering himself, the man sent forward the observers that had now returned to him. The hills beyond the armor inventory showed nothing, despite the complete daylight. "…White Fish?" The man shouted over the inventory with a disbelieving snort. "You're saying you're going to try and hide from another Scout?"

The man did not expect a reply. Whatever would buy him some time was good. He opened his hands slowly and began to read the flow of shinsoo. It was common knowledge that to the expert Scout, no light was necessary to see; it made no difference even if the enemy had hidden into the light itself. From the cover of the armor inventory, the man steadily expanded his area of search. The terrain, his position, the concentration of shinsoo in the area – the man took all of it into calculation and groped the slight crack in the natural flow which would alert him to his enemy's presence.

He found nothing.

However, in the moment that he realized there were no traces of disruption around him, he sensed a massive buildup of shinsoo to his back. The armor inventory barely had time to rotate to his back before it resonated again with a monstrous clang. The next moment, the man saw a green flash of a sword strike slicing into his field of view. With the hurried wave of his hand, the observers blocked the path of the attack, the inventory much too out of angle to help. The man was engulfed in searing cold wind as the observers shattered. He outstretched his hand and snatched the piece of blood-stained paper floating towards him and quickly stuffed it into his coat's inner pocket.

Coughing, he leaned back on the armor inventory. "Two, I see. One combat scout, and one wave controller…" They had erased the disruption in the flow of shinsoo resulting from White Fish, through the use of reverse-flow control. Not bad…the man pulled up the sleeves of his overcoat. He might have to borrow some…

But no new attack came. The man stood up carefully after a moment of waiting. "If it's not your intention to kill me, then come forward," he said as he brushed the grass off of his clothing. "Well, actually I gather that it'll be hard for you to kill me now that sneaking up on me has failed? This is a floor with a Guardian, after all. I trust you know who I am, given your level of skill."

"Oh sorry, my mistake!" The air in front of him wavered, and revealed a tall man clad with a large green cloak. "Didn't mean to _kill_ you, of course. But you say scout! My skills must have been disappointing." The sneering man held a lambent light green sword, connected to a reel inventory.

"Haradah Hendo Kelvin, Fisherman, Royal Enforcement Division No. 59. I'm overjoyed to meet you, 'Witness'."

Hendo, hmm. Images of bygone memories flashed by in the man's head as he heard the name. The family head who couldn't stop sobbing; the terror of being in the disfavor of a Guardian for the first time. The light green-clad girl who sat wearily in the chair, and the winged ones who knelt before her. The promise of the day when he was first called 'Witness'.

The man soon shook off the bridles of thought and straighted his coat. "Since I'm no longer a high ranker, you won't have to address me by sobriquet. Hendo, you said. By blood?"

Hendo Kelvin snickered with a hint of displeasure. "No, fortunately no. Simply borrowed the power of the family to stake a spot in the Enforcement Division…"

Upon a wave of Hendo's hand, another person appeared. The newcomer, wearing a queer sort of fleece over himself, spoke with a ringing, but cracking voice. "Royal Enforcement Division, No. 67, Lo Po Bia Ren. Pleased to meet you, sir."

"So you're the wave controller. And a ventriloquist…and from the appearance and smell, I suppose also an anima? Or do you just not take baths?"

"Sharp as expected, sir," replied the Bia ranker. "But wash, why would I wash my dolls?"

Kelvin stopped Ren with a dismissive gesture. "Shut up. I don't want to hear about your disgusting habits." Turning to the man, Hendo Kelvin smirked with teeth. "We've come here to…escort you with us, dear sir."

The man brushed his tangled hair out with his fingers, and sighed deeply while gazing at the clouds. What a farce, after three days of resting he was tired already because of these kids. He asked with a humorless voice. "Why, did the squad commander say something about the village? I'm guessing he hasn't heard from Princess Maschenny yet? If it's because of that, I can explain to him-"

"Ah," Hendo cut his words with a sharp motion of his hand. "No, actually no. It's true we are part of the Royal Enforcement Division, and it is true that we were sent here to investigate the matter of this village…but the place you need to go with us right now, sir, is not the headquarters."

He raised his eyebrows and stopped the corner of his mouth from curling. "What do you mean? Where else but headquarters if you're here on duty of the Division?"

"You needn't mind, sir. Now, if you please. While we're still talking and not resorting to other things." Kelvin was no longer laughing. Instead he was glaring at the man as if to imply the depletion of patience.

The man, having been staring at the sky this whole time, let out a sputter of laughter and glanced upwards at Hendo Kelvin. "Then you're here for the Guardians' Power? If so, I don't know who sent you but that someone is very mistaken about something important."

Kelvin stepped forward. "I don't know, sir, I don't know. We haven't heard anything about the reasons. We but received the orders to escort you, sir. Now. My guess is we'll have to take you with us."

The sword in Kelvin's hand started to shine brightly. "This sword…it's called 'The Headstand". Have you heard of it, dear sir?"

"I've held it. It's quite a decent sword. Though that's not the original name…but I heard the sword got that name from the fact that the wielder always ends up killing the defeated from above? It's a pity…"

"Ohhoh, you're different, yes, you're different indeed. Then, you're confident you can take on both Ren and myself, and this sword?"

"Well, it doesn't matter much to me, really. As long as you really wish to take me with you, those kinds of things are irrelevant…"

With a sigh, the man lifted one hand towards the sky. "As above," The man stretched his other hand to the ground. "So bel-"

The man held his breath. No, his breath was stifled. A crushing grip of shinsoo was being thrust onto his throat, winding him. Behind the smirking Hendo Kelvin, Ren was corralling the shinsoo towards the man. And in the instant that his words were choked out, Hendo Kelvin's sword flew into the man's vision with a flash before he had time to do anything.

* * *

The sword hit the ground with a thud as Kelvin followed it to the grass, unable to stand its sudden weight. Behind him, Ren had lost the control of shinsoo and was writhing in the dirt.

"B-but…this…no. You…you couldn't finish! The words! You couldn't finish, how-" Kelvin trembled with rage, breathing heavily under the shinsoo pressure. "How did the Guardian's Power…when you couldn't speak…"

"Pack inventory, visibility mode," the man withdrew his pipe from the inventory and calmly started to smoke. "You young fools. You have so much to learn even after ranking."

"Don't you know that promises are kept even without words?"

The man turned off his pack and armor inventories and turned around, about to descend the hill. He figured he would be quite late to Askelon. That damn Holt, the kid was going to make him buy dinner again. Ah…where would he get the money to replace the broken observers…maybe he should sue these kids for recompense…

The man's all-too-realistic worries were interrupted by a grab of his ankles. It was Kelvin's hand, shaking with the effort to move. "W-wait! We have to take you with us! If not, then we!"

The man shook off Kelvin's hand with a slight flick of his foot.

"Whatever you want and whatever your master is searching for, has nothing to do with me. You knew this already, from the day you first reached the highest floor. Just because everything you want is on top of the tower doesn't mean you can enjoy all of it."

The man started to walk, drawing a breath of his pipe. Watching the exhaled smoke rising, he stopped for a moment.

"I saw so many main characters disappear throughout my life. I'm certain there must be a big reason to take me with you. But you know, one thing I realized through these long years is that reasons don't make anything come true."

Kelvin remained silent, perhaps from the weight of the shinsoo.

The man cleared his throat with a cough. The bitter smoke clouded his vision.

"It'll wear off in about three hours. But I can't guarantee anything – the Guardian on this floor is terribly forgetful…"


End file.
